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This is one sure-fire recipe for disaster!
Always proper Layla Taylor never expected to need her childhood nemesis. But when she’s stranded in a blizzard after breaking up with her cheating ex, Justin Tremont is exactly what she’s missing. Well, Justin and his car’s snow tires.
Justin’s more than okay being the rebound guy. A little fun, no strings—that’s his kind of relationship. But Layla Taylor? She’s by the book, to put it mildly. Justin, on the other hand, hardly ever follows his own recipes for the spectacular cakes he’s become known for. This woman is making him feel protective and possessive, of all things. And she sees right through him. That he can’t have. After all, no chef likes to tell all his secrets….
“Why not work for me?”
Layla smirked. “Thanks for the offer, Justin. I’ll see you around.”
He smiled at what was obviously a lie, since she was going to take great efforts not to see him, and took a step back. “Yeah. Layla. Sounds good.”
Layla barely got outside the door when the words he’d said sunk in. She’d given as good as she’d got.
Hadn’t she? Hmm. Maybe she hadn’t.
She turned and knocked. When Justin opened the door, she took both sides of his face, pulled his head down and kissed him.
“What was that for?” he said when she finally let him go.
“That was for every time I’ve taken the high road and didn’t respond in kind to all the stuff you and my brothers did to me.”
He rubbed his thumb over his lower lip. “I like the way you retaliate.”
Dear Reader,
Layla Taylor has long believed that if she planned well enough, her life would be safe, organized and secure—the exact opposite of the way she was raised. But when both her career and her love life evaporate within a matter of days, she begins to suspect that she’s wasted time chasing goals because she thought she had to, not because she wanted to. She’s determined to loosen up and enjoy life, but old habits are hard to break.
Enter Layla’s childhood nemesis, chef Justin Tremont, the guy who ran her bra up the ROTC flagpole fifteen years ago. Justin is the last person Layla thought she’d use as a role model, but who better to teach her to loosen up than someone who lives for a good time?
Justin, however, is not the carefree guy he pretends to be, because he has a secret. The kind of secret that doesn’t go away. The kind of secret that eats at a guy and eventually keeps him from forming long-term relationships. He’s getting a kick out of the new Layla and is more than happy to help her loosen up a little—until he starts to suspect that Layla deserves a whole lot more than he’s able to give.
Just Desserts is a book about acceptance—accepting the mistakes you’ve made, accepting that life isn’t something that can be planned and controlled. Accepting that sometimes you just have to take a chance and hope for the best.
I enjoy hearing from readers. Please feel free to contact me at [email protected], or visit my website, www.jeanniewatt.com.
Jeannie Watt
Just Desserts
Jeannie Watt
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jeannie Watt lives off the grid in rural Nevada and loves nothing better than an excellent meal. Jeannie is blessed with a husband who cooks more than she does, a son who knows how to make tapas and a daughter who knows the best restaurants in San Francisco. Her idea of heaven is homemade macaroni and cheese.
To Jamie, baker of delicious cakes and other fattening treats, too numerous to name.
To Victoria, my most patient editor,
Thank you!
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
LAYLA©TAYLOR©WASN’T©DRUNK enough to be hallucinating, which meant that Justin Tremont was not a figment of her imagination. Her childhood nemesis and the sworn enemy of all she held dear was indeed standing in the doorway of the Lake Tahoe lounge, scanning the room.
Crap.
She ducked her head, hoping he wouldn’t see her drowning her sorrows, alone, as she waited for her sister to come pick her up. The lounge was dimly lit and crowded. There was no reason he should notice her, but less than a minute later she felt the vinyl bench give way beneath his weight as he sat beside her.
This evening just kept getting better.
“Hi, Layla,” he said, when she cut him a sideways glance. “I’m here to take you home.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Whatever.”
